The Epic Quest to Feed the Trolls
by TheBitchCartoonist
Summary: CuteFuzzyWeasel was just a YouTuber who made a show called "Feeding the Trolls". It was a fun little job, until the Trolls he fed got pissed off and tried to kill him. Will Weasel teach them a lesson, or will he be the one to get fed this time around?
1. A Normal Morning

Bright rays of sunlight peeked through the window blinds, falling upon the eyes of the cutest and fuzziest of all weasels and waking him. His eyes slowly fluttered open while adjusting to the light filling his bedroom. He sat up and stretched his arms over his head and yawned, "This is gonna be a great day! I had a great night's sleep, and I woke up in a fantastic mood! Nothing could possibly go wrong today! I could take on the world!"

Weasel jumped out of bed and disrobed, stepping into the shower and turning on the refreshing, warm water. He started scrubbing his hair and singing "Chocolate Salty Balls", which is the song he heard on South Park the night before. After rinsing, he put on his Star Trek bathrobe and headed into the kitchen.

With a hot cup of coffee in hand, Weasel went into his living room and sat down on the couch. He always started the day by watching the News, so he pressed the power button on his remote control and sipped his beverage happily as it came on.

". . . And that, Deborah, is why you should never take a furry to a petting zoo," said John, the lead newscaster. The story that they were previously covering seemed to be over. Although, by the sound of it, Weasel probably didn't want to know about it anyways. "The next story we will discuss is even more interesting. All over the world, the homes of YouTube stars have been suddenly broken into by crazed assailants that the Internet normally refers to as 'Trolls'."

"That's right, John," said Deborah, "To those of you who aren't familiar with the online world, a Troll is a horrible beast who feeds on hatred and takes pride in pissing people off. However, these creatures are breaking into houses that are thousands of miles away from where they live. For example, PewDiePie, who lives in Sweden, has had his house broken into by Trolls from the United States. We don't know for sure how this is possible, but a few other YouTube stars, such as McGoiter and JonTron, have claimed that they somehow came in through their very own computer screens."

Weasel shook his head and scoffed, "What a load of bullshit. Although, I didn't really expect anything good to be on the news, to be honest. All I've heard this week are reports on viral cat videos and how videogames are the leading cause of death and homicides." He turned off the television and finished his coffee before standing up and going towards his office. When he opened the door to the room, he expected to see his computer ready for checking emails and YouTube comments. Instead, he found something quite out of the ordinary. . .

It was Peckcella Von Peter! "Hello, baby boys!" the creepy-ass clown exclaimed seductively, "It's Peckcella Von Peter! I'm here with a top ten list on why CuteFuzzyWeasel needs to die!"

"Oh, fuck! It's Molesto the Clown!" Weasel shouted as he covered his backside in fear, "What are you doing in my house?!"

"Number one," Peckcella began as it pulled out a large Master Sword, "he made two videos about me." It swung the sword at Weasel, but he ducked, and it knocked over a box full of papers instead.

"Watch where you swing that thing! God, I can't believe I'm about to get killed by Barney's possessed ballsack!"

"Number two, he called me mean names, and mean baby boys need to be punished." It stabbed at the Weasel, but it missed and stabbed the cabinet from over his shoulder. "Number three, he won't stand still."

"Look, it was just a few videos that I made for fun!" Weasel argued, "It's not a big deal! Do I really have to die for making some silly videos? Besides, you're creepy as hell! You deserved it!"

It jumped over Weasel and swung its sword down to split him in half, but he jumped back to dodge. The Master Sword got stuck in the floor and was now unable to be used. "Number four, he keeps making excuses. Number five, he got my cool sword stuck in the floor. Number six, my hands are going to get very dirty with his blood."

Weasel tried to run for the door, but Peckcella Von Peter used its demonic powers to close the door and lock it before he could reach it. He pulled onto the doorknob and tried to pull it open, but its powers were too strong. "Dammit!"

"Number seven," Peckcella Von Peter said as it grabbed Weasel's neck, "he tried to run away from me." It squeezed his neck tightly, choking Weasel.

Weasel gasped for air, grasping the demon clown's wrists and trying to pull them off of his neck. "T-That's it. You asked. . . for it, you Stephen King. . . reject!"

"Number eight, he threatened-"

The creepy shit clown was interrupted by Weasel's fist punching its butt-ugly face. Peckcella fell over backwards and released his neck. He was now able to breathe, and he was now angry and ready to kill. "Where the hell did you come from?!"

The clown's nose was bleeding. "Number nine, he really hurt me, and it's not polite to hit a lady."

"The fuck?" Weasel raised an eyebrow.

Peckcella Von Peter stood back up with its nose stained with blood. It ran at Weasel with full force and punched Weasel in the stomach. When he hunched over in pain, it slammed its elbow on his head and forced him into the floor.

Weasel grunted, launched himself up, and tackled the rapist clown. As it was falling backwards, Peckcella hit the back of its head on the computer desk. Then, Weasel proceeded to punch the shit out of its face until it looked even more horribly disfigured than it already did.

To finish it off, he kicked its crotch super hard and made it vomit out all of its internal organs. "N-Number ten. . . he killed. . . m-me. . ." Then he died.

"Good riddance!" Weasel smirked while standing in a heroic Superman pose. Then he glanced over at his computer screen and saw that he had a new email. He went over and sat down in his office chair, and he clicked on the message and read:

"Dear CuteFuzzyWeasel: We are coming after you. You don't know us, but we very much know you. We have stalked you mercilessly because we were super butthurt over the videos you made of us, and we are going to ruin you. The clown should have already transported to you through your monitor by now to rough you up a bit, but judging on the writing style of this fanfiction, it most likely didn't succeed. But rest assured, we will finish you, one way or another. Don't get too comfortable. With love, your enemies."

"That shit about the computer portals was true? And there are people trying to kill me? What the hell did I ever do?! I just make YouTube videos! I'm not some kind of terrorist!" Weasel scratched his head, confused why anyone would have that kind of grudge on him over something so small. "Alright. If they're looking for a fight, then they're gonna get one," he said menacingly as he played epic music.

Weasel replaced his robe for his normal attire: a brown coat over a dark blue button-up striped shirt. Also pants. He needs those. He also got some cool sunglasses to look more bad ass. He picked up a plasma gun and stood in front of the computer, but before he leaped into the portal, he stated:

"Time to feed the trolls. . ."


	2. The Prophecy

As Weasel fell through the Internet sky, screaming and waving his arms, he saw tons of ads, which were mostly for work-out programs and condoms, fly through the pixelated clouds and above the tiled grounds. Before he landed onto the ground, an ad for nipple cream flew underneath him, saving him from turning into concrete gravy. It sent him over to the entrance of Googleville like a magic carpet. Weasel jumped off, and the ad flew off into a flock of other advertisements.

"So, this is the Internet, huh?" CFW said as he stood in front of the gate, "I expected to see more porn." He walked over to the gate curiously and pressed a large, blue button.

A booming static sound emanated from the large overhead speakers, and following it was the voice of a man that sounded like a World of Warcraft gamer. "Uh, hi. I'm the, uh. . . admin of this area." Sounds that sounded like the munching of Doritos came out before he began talking again. "You wanna, like, come in, or something?"

"Uhh. . . yeah. That's kinda why I pressed the damn button." Weasel sighed, getting rather annoyed with this conversation.

The admin apparently farted right into the microphone and then said, "Okay. Hold on. Let me just. . ." After several more awkward seconds of him heavily breathing, the speakers beeped, and the gates clicked and slowly opened.

Weasel was finally able to enter Googleville and was amazed at the beauty. There were large buildings with neon lights and moving pictures, each representing every online website. Some were more like small warehouses, others were like family-owned businesses, but the large ones were more famous websites such as YouTube and Facebook.

"Wow, this place is so generic and unoriginal! It looks exactly like what everyone has ever imagined the Internet to look like from the inside!" Weasel walked down the sidewalk and took in the sights of the city. Suddenly, the window of a very large building was shattered when a nasty, warty green creature jumped through it, running away with a box.

"What the?" Weasel stopped in front of the pile of broken glass and watched the monster run through the street and into a dark alley. The alarms were blaring inside the building, which looked like it connected all of the world's computers together with all of the large, black wires inside of it. "What did it take out of that building?"

"It hacked into someone's computer and took their personal porn folders for blackmail," said a voice from overhead, "I believe the Troll hacked into Egoraptor's computer."

Weasel looked above him and saw a glittery pink ball of glowy light. "Who are you?"

"I'm Mozilla, the Internet Fairy. I've come to aid you in your quest to save the Internet from The Crash." Mozilla flew around him in circles, twinkling and dropping glittery sparkles.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Weasel furrowed his brow in confusion. "Save the Internet? Look, man, I just came here to stop some Trolls who were trying to kill me!"

"But you are the one who the Binary prophecies foretold! You must stop the Trolls from depleting the Internet of power!" she explained excitedly.

"A prophecy?"

"Yes! The Binary Clans that founded this marvelous land predicted that a brave, handsome hero would fall from the sky and deliver our land from the greasy clutches of the Trolls who would eventually take over and have control of the whole outside world!"

"This is getting retarded."

"You see, if they suck this land dry of energy, they will have the chance to hack into the entire Internet Kingdom. Then, your world would cease to function because of it's dependency on this land, and the Trolls will have access to the personal information of every single person on Earth!"

"Hey, I like long, ongoing exposition being suddenly dumped out onto a reader as much as the next guy," said Weasel as he started to continue walking up the street, "but you must be mistaken. I'm no hero, I can assure you that."

''Yes you are, Weasel! I have watched your adventures on YouTube. I've seen how you've fought off Coppercab!" cried Mozilla.

"That wasn't even Coppercab," responded CFW, "Wait, you've seen my videos?"

"Indeed. I have seen and heard everything on the Internet. You know, typical all-intelligent being crap."

"Then shouldn't YOU know how to destroy the Trolls?" he scoffed, "Listen, I just wanna finish my OWN quest and get back home."

"But-"

"Shoo, you little insect!" Weasel waved his hand at the fairy in an attempt to get rid of her. He continued down the street and saw many other people down the street. Some looked like normal people, while most looked more like blank blow-up dolls with no facial features. They moved like robots and, unlike the others, had no name over their head. "What are those guys?"

"Those are the people of this land who are not logged in. We call them Anons. The colorful ones are Users," Mozilla said, still following her hero, "Unfortunately, we have gotten more Anons ever since many people lost their accounts to the Trolls."

"Gee," Weasel said sadly, "that really fucking sucks." He would hate it if he ever lost his account. "What happens if you become an Anon?"

"You lose all color and humanity to your avatar, and you become an empty shell without thoughts or feelings," Mozilla murmured, "You're like a robot following its program without purpose."

As she talked, Weasel saw a small, green creature, which was most likely another troll, creep behind a User way down the street from where he was. It stabbed its back with a large butcher knife and cackled as it ran away. The victim suddenly began to shriek in pain, capturing the attention of all of the nearby Users. The color left it's body like evaporating water, and the name disappeared. The other users cried and ran screaming as it became a wandering Anon and followed its Anon brethren.

"Oh, no," the fairy sighed, "That's the twenty-eighth victim this week."

"The bastard went over there!" Weasel pointed over to an alleyway between Craigslist and Ebay and started running. "You won't get away with this, asshole!"

Mozilla flew to keep up. "Weasel, wait for me!"

Weasel ran as fast as he could. When he eventually entered the alley, he saw the Troll feasting on a flea-bitten rat that wore a leather jacket for some reason. "Hey, you!"

The Troll looked up at CuteFuzzyWeasel and spit out the rat, which flipped off the creature, pissed on its foot, and ran off into a hole in the wall. "Well, well, well. The prophecies have foretold that you'd come."

"What the hell is up with you weirdos and your damn prophecy?!"

"The Feeder of Trolls," it began as it started casually walking towards Weasel, changing form and becoming more human-shaped, "The one who would take down our leader and save the Internet, as well as the entire outside world, from total chaos and destruction."

"I wouldn't be so cocky, you beast!" Mozilla called out, "You can't possibly imagine what this man is capable of!"

"I assure you, my dear, that he isn't much. He's just a wannabe hero who needs to learn his place."

"I haven't even done anything to you!" Weasel fingered the trigger of his Blaster.

"Oh really?" The Troll was now fully transformed. It had taken the form of an overweight, bald, elderly man wearing glasses and a baggy T-shirt with Bible verses on the front.

"James the Preacher?!" Weasel was shocked, but he was also furious at having to see his face again.

Mozilla flew next to Weasel's ear and whispered, "You know this man?"

"Yeah, but he's no man." Weasel aimed his Blaster at him and began to slowly squeeze the trigger.

"You insulted my holy videos praising the word of God." James came closer, and his eyes glowed bright purple.

"James," argues the Weasel, "your videos contain you telling gay people to die and saying that women will go to Hell for having jobs! It's all bullshit!" He shot his blaster, but the laser bullet bounced off of his chest and nearly hit Mozilla.

James began demonically laughing. "You think your puny weapons can defeat me?" Fire began to appear in his palms, and he shot large fireballs at Weasel.

He jumped to avoid them. "Mozilla, how do I kill this bitch? I'm not gonna be able to play Mario for much longer!"

"I do not know," she answered, "His demonic state is supposedly immortal."

"Demonic?!" Weasel suddenly had an idea, and asked, "Hey, can you poof up a cross or something?"

"Um, sure." Mozilla circled around in circles and a jeweled silver cross poofed in the middle.

Weasel grabbed the cross and began to run down the long alleyway. James kept shooting fireballs at him, but he easily evaded them.

"Let's see how you dodge these, you filthy atheist!" Long, shadowy black arms shot out of his back and lunged for Weasel. They grabbed onto him and pulled him towards James. "Any last words before I squeeze you so hard that jelly comes out of your ass?"

"Yes, I have six words for you, James!" Weasel said as he squirmed his arm out of his grasp and held out the cross. "The power of Christ compels you!"

James's skin began to boil and sizzle, and the smell of bacon filled the air. He shielded himself with his arms and yelled out, unable to hold onto Weasel with his shadow arms due to the extreme level of pain. "HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!"

"Because irony is a bitch." Weasel's shades glistened in the sun as he nodded like a motherfucker.

"You did it, Weasel!" the fairy cheered and rubbed against his cheek, "I told you that you're a hero!"

"Mozilla, I'm still not helping you. I only killed this guy because of what he did that that User."

"But Weasel-" She was interrupted by sputtering noises coming from the fried corpse of James the Preacher.

Weasel walked over to him and grabbed him by his shirt collar. "Since your mouth still works, why don't you use it to tell me who your boss is?"

"I-I'll never tell you," James replied weakly.

"If you don't tell me, I'll have you eat your own ballsack."

"Fine," he gasped, "Our Troll leader is. . . is Mario Teh Plumber!" Then he died.

Weasel's eyes bulged out of his skull. "Wait, Mario Teh Plumber is the Troll leader?! He's the one who will take over the world?!"

"He will unless someone does something about it!" Mozilla said angrily, "That's your responsibility, Weasel!"

He sighed and clenched his fists. He couldn't let that retard take over the Internet and have access to the whole Earth. "Alright, I'll do it."

"Hooray! The prophecy shall be fulfilled!" She flew out of the alleyway and spun around the street. "Everyone, the hero has arrived! The one who shall free this land from the Trolls is here at last!" she called out to all of the people as Weasel left the alley as well.

The Users all clapped and cheered, and the Anons all bowed in unison on the sidewalks. The Users crowded around Weasel and hoisted him on their shoulders and carried him down the street.

"Oh, good golly fuck balls!" Weasel groaned, "Is this really necessary?"

"Shush! They just want to show appreciation for your bravery!" Mozilla giggled.

When they reached the end of the street, the crowd set Weasel down in front of many famous YouTubers, such as Smosh and PeanutButterGamer. Projared walked up to Weasel and shook his hand. "Thank you, CuteFuzzyWeasel. We are all in your debt."

"Yeah, that's nice. Your hand smells like ass." After everyone was finished worshiping him, he and Mozilla walked into the sunset towards the West to go and kill the Trolls and their leader, Mario Teh Plumber.

"On the road again! I can't wait to get back on the road agai-"

"Shut the fuck up, Mozilla."


End file.
